


Keep Me Everywhere You Are

by LSquared80



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Another post 8.04, F/M, half angst, mostly sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-10
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2020-02-29 06:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18773092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LSquared80/pseuds/LSquared80
Summary: Two times Jaime and Brienne slept together - one full of promise, the other a farewell.





	1. All the Reasons You Would Stay

**Author's Note:**

> Vacation days were made for re-watching Jaime and Brienne scenes and writing fanfic. These two have invaded my soul. 
> 
> The title comes from a song I used to listen to years ago that came to mind after watching Jaime leave for King's Landing. It's called One Moment More by Mindy Smith.

The second time Jaime knocked on her door she was already in a state of undress – boots, breeches, and smallclothes in a pile on the floor. Wearing only a long tunic, Brienne opened the door just enough to confirm it was him. She looked aside, hiding her smile, and then opened the door enough for him to enter. 

 

Jaime smelled of the cold night, of pine and cedar, and he rubbed his hands together in front of the fire. 

 

“If I’m not mistaken your room has a fire,” she said. 

 

He stilled and then turned to look at her, studying her face. She was half cast in shadow, and if she would have taken one small step forward Jaime would have been able to fully see her expression, lit by the flickering glow of the flames. “I came here to see you,” he said, speaking slowly and softly. “Not your fireplace.” 

 

“Oh.” Brienne felt a pleasant shiver travel the length of her spine. “I suppose no one saw you at my door?” 

 

“Does it matter to you if they did?” he asked. He would hate to know he’d made Brienne uncomfortable. 

 

She folded her hands together and her thumbnail nervously scratched at her palm. “I wondered if, perhaps, it mattered to you?” 

 

Jaime moved a step closer and ached at the doubt he found in her eyes. He supposed a woman who has rarely been thought of as a woman, and with a history of being mocked by men, would take time to believe a man truly desired her. Nevertheless, it pained him that their night together hadn’t been enough to convince Brienne of his feelings for her – both wanton and tender. “Not at all,” he said. He moved even closer. “Not.” Jaime lifted his hand to draw a line along her jaw. “At.” He swept his thumb along the curve of her bottom lip. “All.” 

 

Brienne lifted her arms and clasped one hand at the back of his neck and the other over his shoulder. Their mouths and bodies collided, his right arm locking around her waist and his left grabbing a handful of her shirt. She had been feeling a touch sore from her first time, but Brienne instinctively rolled her hips and found that any unpleasant ache was overtaken by a delightful throb between her legs. She could feel Jaime grow hard against her and there was something so arousing about being nearly naked while he was fully clothed. 

 

He groaned into her mouth and his hand slid from the small of her back to squeeze her bottom. Jaime pulled her even closer to him, holding her as tight against him as he could. 

 

In that moment it felt to Brienne like his hand and his sturdy frame were the only things keeping her upright. All of her strength, all of her blood, had gone straight to her core. Her knees wobbled and she moaned something unintelligible. 

 

Jaime broke the kiss only to be able to see her face, her eyes hooded with lust. The skin around her mouth was red, scratched by the wiry hairs of his beard. He thought of marking her that way somewhere else – along the inside of her thighs, her cunt. The night before he had used only his fingers to ready Brienne for his cock, and with that in mind he propelled her toward the bed. 

 

She let him guide her until she felt the edge against the backs of her legs. When his hand grabbed the hem of her tunic, Brienne helped him to roll it up the length of her torso and then up over her head. She shivered when Jaime pressed his hand flat to her belly and gave her a gentle shove as he said, “Lie back,” and she did. 

 

Brienne lifted her head to see him drop to his knees before her. She felt his hands – the gold chilled and his skin warm against her – slide beneath her knees and tug her bottom to the very edge of the mattress. Jaime urged her legs to drape over his shoulders and any discomfort she felt at the position, the intimacy, dissipated when he rubbed his cheek against her thigh and dropped a gentle kiss atop the tuft of blonde curls. 

 

He surprised her by licking a line along the center of her cunt, and when he flicked against the bead of nerves there, he felt her heels press into his back. Brienne responded to his tongue – the way he licked and thrust and flicked, how sometimes his tongue was flat and other times he used only the taut tip – by writhing and shuddering and squeezing her thighs around his head. Jaime moaned and thought how for all the work he put into staying alive, he could die happy crushed between her legs. 

 

He lifted his hand and flattened his palm to her stomach. He felt her tremble, felt her body tense and her toes curl. With one drawn out moan, Brienne bucked her hips and pressed herself even closer to his mouth as she came in waves. Her body relaxed all at once, collapsing against the bed, her legs sliding off Jaime’s shoulders. He watched her, chest rising and falling as she panted. 

 

“Fuck,” he cursed, still kneeling there, overwhelmed by the thrill of pleasuring her. His hand found hers and their fingers locked together. 

 

It was a while before Brienne lifted her head and sat up. “That was... that was...” Her eyes glistened as she searched for the words. 

 

Jaime’s face was now level with her bare breasts. He kissed the tip of one, then the other, and sucked the pink peak into his mouth. He released it with a light scrape of his teeth and looked up at her. “Magnificent,” he offered. “Wondrous. Miraculous. Thoroughly-” 

 

Brienne interrupted him by framing his face with her hands and bending to kiss him, able to taste herself and the lingering tartness of the wine from dinner. She reached down and began removing his shirt, mussing his hair as she pulled it up over his head. Jaime looped his arms around Brienne’s waist and pressed his face between her breasts. He hugged her tightly and she brushed her fingers through his hair. 

 

They were quiet, content in holding one another, until Brienne whispered, “I suppose this is goodbye." 

 

He leaned back, alarmed. “What? Goodbye?” 

 

She shrugged one shoulder. “You’re a knight. A soldier. I imagine you will be leaving with the others for King’s Landing. I would be if it weren’t for Lady Sansa.” 

 

Jaime lifted his hand to cup her cheek, his thumb rubbing lightly against her chin. “No, Brienne,” he said, his voice grave. “I plan to be here. Where you are. If you’ll have me.” 

 

Her stomach fluttered and her chin wobbled. The corners of her mouth twitched into a slight smile. “Of course, I’ll have you. I think it’s Lady Sansa you need to convince,” she said. 

 

Jaime rose up from the floor and used the weight of his body to press Brienne’s back against the bed. They shifted back, rolled once, twice, until they were both completely on the surface. “Well, then. We need to make sure she understands just how happy you are with me here.” He nuzzled her neck while the fingers of his left hand tickled along her ribcage, and Brienne yelped and laughed.


	2. Let Me Have One Moment More

Meals at Winterfell had gone from overly crowded events to sparse, quiet gatherings. Jaime’s pensive mood was hard to miss with so few bodies filling the seats. Brienne looked at him from the other side of the table and said, “The meat is good tonight, don’t you think?” 

 

He nodded. “Yes.” 

 

She stretched her leg, lifting her foot to rub from his ankle to just below his knee. She was satisfied by the way Jaime smiled in response and pressed his leg against hers. 

 

He didn’t want Brienne to ask what he was thinking about. It was unpleasant. But Jaime could not stop ruminating over what Sansa had said, and what they knew had happened in King’s Landing and what could happen if Cersei was not stopped. 

 

When the majority of Winterfell’s inhabitants left to go South, everyone was still in the midst of the thrill of survival. They felt invincible and were alight with optimism. Hearing of their defeat had plunged Jaime right back into the reality of the situation. He had not been able to stop thinking of all the horrid things he had done for and with Cersei, and if Jon Snow and the Dragon Queen could not stop her, they were going to need someone like him. Someone who, regrettably, understood how Cersei’s mind worked. Had knowledge of her greatest weapons and threats. 

 

“More wine?” Brienne asked. 

 

He sat up straight. “Sure,” he said, sliding his chalice toward her. His throat constricted as he watched Brienne happily pour the wine, tending to him. A great discovery of their time together had been how well she took to domesticity, to caretaking, and how none of it softened her to the point of overtaking her strength and command. She might carefully fold Jaime’s jerkin, but she would also turn around and savagely cut down anyone who posed a threat to those she swore to protect. She was, after all, a lady and a knight. 

 

Jaime dragged a hand down his face when she wasn’t looking. He was tired and emotional and wanted to hide all of it. He could not tell Brienne what he was thinking, what he was planning, because she would put herself in harm’s way if given too much time to consider it all. He had no doubt someone from Winterfell – possibly even his brother, whether purposeful or not – would report to Cersei that her golden brother had been fucking Brienne the Beauty. The more distance he could keep between the two women the safer Brienne was. 

 

Suddenly, plates were being cleared and the room was emptying. He followed Brienne to her chambers already knowing he was going to leave Winterfell later that night. He already knew and she did not, and despite that cruelty he burned for her. He needed to say goodbye with his body the way he could not with his words. 

 

“Are you alright?” she asked. She had taken notice of how little he ate at dinner and worried he was sick. She hung her cloak and removed her boots. She started to untie the laces of her shirt. 

 

Jaime smiled, but his reaction was delayed enough to give her further pause. “Yes, I’m fine. But I want you to stop taking your clothes off,” he said. 

 

Brienne paused, stricken. Fear seized her breath. After their first night together, she had been so careful not to overdo it. Not to be too enamored, too enthusiastic, too much of anything. But as the days went on, she stopped feeling a need to contain herself around Jaime. It became routine for him to kiss her and for Brienne to comb her fingers through his hair, his head resting between her breasts. It was not unusual to catch him staring at her from across the room, or him following her around the grounds. 

 

“Because,” he went on, “I want to do it myself.” 

 

She sighed and began to say something about the difficulties of the knots, but her words were swallowed by Jaime’s lips. He wrapped his arms around her and his lips were heavy, his tongue relentless. Brienne grabbed at his shirt for balance when she felt him walking her toward the nearest surface. He cradled her head to keep her from slamming against the wall, and he pinned her there with his hips. She wondered how he would remove her clothes without assistance, and the answer was he would destroy her clothes. 

 

Jaime had removed his gold hand, and he pressed the stump against her collarbone while his left hand pulled at the fabric of her shirt. It took some time, but he managed a small tear and then ripped the garment right in half. His palm cupped her bare breast, kneading as he lowered his head to lash his tongue across one taut nipple and then the other. He was breathing hard, and at first Brienne was alarmed by Jaime’s frenzied pace and rough movements, but as he continued to worship her breasts, she came to enjoy the new demeanor. 

 

“Jaime,” she moaned his name in a raspy whisper, the suction of his lips and the scratch of his beard almost enough to ignite a fire between her legs. She squeezed her thighs together, rocked her hips to rub against him – trying to satisfy the throb there while he got lost elsewhere. 

 

He shoved the sleeves of her shirt down the length of her arms and let it pool at their feet. Jaime kissed his way to her stomach, his tongue drawing a circle around her bellybutton, as he fell to his knees. He yanked at the tie of her breeches, loosening the knot and dragging them and her smallclothes down over her hips, to her knees, down to her ankles. She lifted one foot and then the other, allowing Jaime to toss the garments aside. 

 

Brienne looked down at him, blushing at the way he stared at her cunt, as if he were admiring a work of art. She had to tilt her head back against the wall and close her eyes when he began using his tongue there. Gone was the feeling that Jaime thought he had to tread softly, preparing Brienne for every new act and sensation. He had been careful with her, making love to her, and he was going to fuck her, she thought. It was thrilling in a different way, more carnal. 

 

She wasn’t wrong, but she wasn’t right either. Jaime softened his ministrations – kissing her, inhaling her scent. But then he introduced his fingers, rubbing his calloused thumb in tight circles against her clit. He used such a frantic speed that it took only a short while for Brienne to grunt her release. She was taken by surprise by the intensity and a little embarrassed by the deep, guttural sound she made and the way her hips jutted forward, grinding against his tongue. 

 

It didn’t seem to bother Jaime, she observed, as he climbed to his feet and kissed her. 

 

He began to undress himself and didn’t protest when Brienne assisted. The minute he was as naked as she was, Jaime gripped her hip with his hand and held the stump to her other side. He first pulled her away from the wall, then turned her around, pressing his hard cock to her backside. With one arm curled around her waist, he moved his feet, encouraging her to step forward until she was standing at the small table. He rubbed his beard between her shoulder blades and whispered, “I want you everywhere,” as he urged her to bend forward. 

 

Jaime behind her was not a new position for them, but they had always been in the bed. It felt new to Brienne, like she was somehow more exposed. He squeezed his hand at the back of her neck, rubbed down the curve of her spine and then palmed her ass. The way he explored her, and the hard breaths and grunts of appreciation he made, woke something in Brienne. 

 

“Please, Jaime,” she said, her forearms resting on the table. His desire for her emboldened Brienne. “I need you inside me.” 

 

He had to adjust her a bit to find the right angle. He stroked himself and rubbed against her before slowly pushing into her. They moaned in unison and Jaime alternated between quick and short and then slow and long thrusts. The table banged against the wall. When he was almost over the edge, he stopped and pulled back. 

 

Brienne turned to see him stretching across the floor in front of the fire. He beckoned for her and she knelt beside him, wrapping her fingers around him. 

 

“No, no,” he whispered, blowing out a sharp hiss of breath between his teeth. “I want this to last.” 

 

She maneuvered until she was straddling him, her legs locked around him. Brienne lifted her hips and sank down slowly. He watched her face change, watched her pinch and tug at her nipples. It was languid and sweet and she was taken by surprise when Jaime began to buck his hips, setting a faster pace. 

 

Brienne fell forward, holding her hands to his chest for leverage. She gasped at the way he moved in her and when he stopped, she was breathless. 

 

Jaime sat up, pulling her legs until she wrapped them around his waist. His head bobbed against her shoulder as they both moved, and again he changed course, whispering for her to slow down. He sighed when Brienne rocked slowly back and forth, her arms looped around his neck. He lifted his head and leaned back enough to be able to gaze at the sweat glistening on her chest, the slight bounce of her petite breasts, and then his eyes locked with hers. 

 

It took a while for Brienne to realize the streaks shining on his cheeks were tears and not sweat. She stilled, but Jaime said, “Don’t stop,” and eliminated any distance between their bodies. They remained locked in an embrace until his body shook with the strain of resistance. His undoing was Brienne dropping a light kiss at his temple. He crumbled then, dropping his head to her shoulder, letting go of a strangled cry that was warm against her neck. Jaime spilled into her, grunting with every last thrust of his hips. Spent, he collapsed in her arms. 

 

She held him as his breathing returned to normal, her hands stroking up and down his back. Brienne wanted to say the three words that had been hanging between them. She thought _he must love me_ , for she didn’t know how two people who were not in love could be that close, could pull such powerful feelings out of one another. 

 

Jaime’s breathing returned to normal and he lifted his head from her shoulder. He stared into her blue eyes and smiled. He leaned forward and kissed the scar above her lip. Jaime hoped he had committed every scar, freckle, and curve to memory. He wanted to be able to close his eyes at night and draw her in his mind. He wanted to be able to call up the exact feel of her breast beneath his hand, the weight of her legs around his hips. To keep her wherever he was. 

 

“Jaime,” she whispered, plaintive. 

 

Already there was yearning in her voice, he thought. He would hear it everywhere – the way she spoke his name with such tenderness, such longing. 

 

He said, “Let’s get into bed,” and held Brienne until she fell asleep.


End file.
